|
Post by Swerve on Apr 11, 2011 23:04:43 GMT -5
"I try not to." Swerve blurts it out, rather ruefully for his rising temper, before he can censor himself. He then bites down hard on his lower lip and finishes removing bullets, moving on to other shrapnel. He tries not to and occasionally, he succeeds. "And hold still!" he snaps, trying to slap Xaaron's hand back down.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 12, 2011 9:09:40 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron holds still! He is really is a rather dreadful patient, isn't he?
He says, "Not dwelling on the past can be a good thing. When you live as long as we do, even the happiest and luckiest sorts accumulate some grief. Endlessly recalling it does little good."
Of course, the past is there to be learned from, lest its mistakes be repeated, but Swerve doesn't need mixed messages like that just yet.
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 13, 2011 22:48:59 GMT -5
There's no comment from Swerve this time, not even a word-noise. Xaaron's behaving, so he knuckles down; it doesn't take long to clear the shrapnel and clean away soot and other particulate gunk. He moves on to removing damaged circuitry and parts to either repair or replace them as needed.
He's a rather dreadful medic.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 13, 2011 23:45:18 GMT -5
If Swerve doesn't kill his patients, Emirate Xaaron will call it good!
If Swerve won't talk, Emirate Xaaron will fill the silence, speaking, "Is there any way I can improve your situation?"
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 14, 2011 10:06:36 GMT -5
It seems for a good while after Xaaron asks his question that Swerve won't answer, having gone into silent mode. He just keeps at the repairs – at a steady pace, neither hurried nor slow. He doesn't want Xaaron to stay any longer than necessary, perhaps, but he isn't trying to turf the old Autobot as quickly as possible, either.
"What're you going on about?" he finally mumbles, sounding quite distracted with the fine wires he's reattaching to their connector points.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 14, 2011 11:37:31 GMT -5
"You. You're an Autobot. Your leader is polling your opinion," Emirate Xaaron explains wryly, lips quirking into an amused expression. "How are things going around here? What is being done well? What could be done better?"
He makes no promises to use anything Swerve says!
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 14, 2011 12:23:50 GMT -5
The answer is automatic and if Xaaron had asked Kup, Kup probably could've told him what Swerve would say.
"I'm fine with things," says Swerve. And it's true; nothing is intolerable and certainly better than the underground. After all, he has a sure bunk, plenty of supplies, more than sufficient fuel, and of all novelties, people willing to stick out their necks for him. What's to complain about? Other than the state of Xaaron's repairs, that is; Swerve curses quietly and Xaaron may find his mobility somewhat limited once Swerve prizes out a cracked gearwheel. It almost promptly crumbles once it's in his palm and he's quick on getting a replacement set.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 14, 2011 14:41:31 GMT -5
That's an interesting answer, though it doesn't give Emirate Xaaron much to say back! Swerve is probably doing that on purpose. That's all right. Emirate Xaaron likes a challenge!
Being immobile is... well, he should have transformed more when he was younger. The wages of age!
Emirate Xaaron speculates idly, "If you were in a position to legalise oilsport racing, how would you go about it?"
Emirate Xaaron is honestly okay with Transformers who are of sound mind entering into sports where they could die. See: The State Games. It's not to say that the gladiators die every time or even most of the time, anyway. However, marginalising Transformers and outlawing their way of life tends to lead to resentment, that is a problem indeed.
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 15, 2011 18:56:49 GMT -5
Swerve actually has to stop and set down his tools when Xaaron asks that question. He stares for several seconds, then shuts his optics and scowls as thought refuses to come to him, then pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers, then ducks his head and cups his face in his palm. He looks up again, slowly, fingers scraping down his cheeks.
"Legalise… oilsport?" he repeats. "How would – that's – I don't know!" Never even thought about it! He cycles air for a few more seconds before returning to Xaaron's injuries since it wouldn't do to perform the work too roughly and cause even more damage. He grinds his jaw audibly, however, and his ventilation continues to work, providing an undercurrent of white noise. "I don't know," he repeats, much more calmly than before – which is to say, still agitated, but calm for him. "Never thought about that, either. What'd be the point? Somebody would still break the blasted rules too many times, or be too rough, and they'd still end up having to find something else."
Abruptly, he huffs, pushing himself away from the table, and snatches up his toolkit. The glare he turns on Xaaron is positively incensed.
"I can't believe you still have reticulated sprotchet anchors! I haven't needed one of those old things in aeons!" He's especially noisy in rifling through his kit. "If I don't still have it, I'll have to fabricate one!"
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 15, 2011 19:33:33 GMT -5
So predictable.
"Oh, that's the thing," Emirate Xaaron says, smirking, "Gladiatorial games were legal in my reality. You step into the arena, and you just might die. Most didn't, but sometimes, matches went to a kill. You can't be 'too rough' if you're in the arena and death is already an acceptable outcome on the table."
"The point is... you're from a marginalised subset of society, and I have noticed a trend for marginalised subsets to tend to sign on with the 'cons. They're angry, hurting, and resentful. The Decepticons sound like a good deal at the time, a chance for a change for the better. If there were instead outlets to integrate such marginalised subsets with society, tearing down society via the Decepticon cause might not seem so appealing."
"So say you're too rough for the main races. Suppose that racing to the death wasn't illegal. That you didn't have to hide it or be ashamed of it. That it was just another career option. How would that have made things different when the Autobots and Decepticons arrived on your world, Swerve?"
Emirate Xaaron pauses and laughs. "I'm old, Swerve, and I haven't kept up with full-body overhauls like you have."
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 17, 2011 20:39:54 GMT -5
Swerve is just about to butt in with a caustic remark that when something's legal, it has to have a long list of rules to go with it, when Xaaron manages to throw another speedbreaker under his tires with that next question. He stares into his toolkit as though it has the answer hidden under all the rows of neatly ordered and secured spanners and drivers and bits and widgets. The much-offending reticulated sprotchet in hand, he sits down and sighs.
"I… don't know," he murmurs, shoulders slouching. If oilsport had been legal, he might have stayed topside. Kept up his training with Detour. "One less thing in the underground," he adds cynically.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 17, 2011 21:46:51 GMT -5
"I'm too much of a cynic to think a perfect society'll ever be achieved. That's good news for me, though. I would be unnecessary in a perfect society," Emirate Xaaron opines, smiling lopsidedly, "but I think I have a duty to try to give my people the best life that I can. Even if my people are less than perfect themselves. Especially if they are."
"Of course here, I'm more concerned with keeping my people alive than empowering the disenfranchised."
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 21, 2011 18:09:47 GMT -5
Swerve has no comment on empowerment or perfection, instead working on loosening those inveterate sprotchet anchors.
"You've done fine so far by me," is what he does say, quietly, and with the gratitude he can't put into two little words. They should be easier to say than a whole sentence, but Swerve is Swerve. "For what that's worth, anyway."
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 24, 2011 12:56:46 GMT -5
Sprockets are the worst. Just ask the Jetsons.
Emirate Xaaron answers sincerely, "Quite a bit."
He could have believed he'd hear that from Swerve some day. He knows he is a manipulative bootleg. Still, it is an exquisitely satisfying feeling to finally hear it.
|
|
|
Post by Swerve on Apr 26, 2011 19:39:14 GMT -5
Visibly and physically uncomfortable by this point, because tough guys like Swerve get awkward in moments such as these, the racer just works. And works. And works. And it shouldn't be too long before all Xaaron needs is something to cover the hole in his back until Swerve can get a proper replacement plate fabricated.
He says as much when he stands to look for a suitable piece to set in place as a patch, "Lemme find a temporary cover for that and you oughtta be fine while I work on your new dorsal plate."
|
|